Unless Romeo's Got A Calculator, He's Not Climbing My Balcony
by Renzin
Summary: Vallie has a plan. She's going to change the world, and become something great. But first, she needs her A levels. Waterloo Road is as good a place as any to finish her schooling, but soon the new guy with a sly look and sinful eyes decides that Vallie needs to loosen up. And no matter how much she insists that she needs to study for physics, Barry doesn't seem to get the message.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Waterloo Road, only my OCs, artwork and this story.**

 **Chapter 1**

There was something about the air that signified change. Perhaps one might say that this didn't count as a premonition, because I already knew that today was my first day in a new house, but I've always been one for the dramatics. I exhaled deeply, sinking back into the bed and rolled over to stretch my spine until it popped. It felt _heavenly._

Three things that Scotland has taught me in the journey up here.

1\. It is _cold._

2\. There are a _lot_ of sheep in the countryside.

3\. I should never agree to sit next to Marcus in a plane ever again.

I've always been a morning person, and was well aware that I was in a minority. If I had my way, I would sleep through the grey British days and live in the night, but not in a 'look at me, _such_ a party girl kind of way'. My converses and brogues were far more worn in than my heels. Something about the stillness at 3 o'clock, and the swooping chill of the silent air appealed to me.

I'm sure you've gathered by now that I'm a little odd.

But at least you know now why it's perfectly normal that I was awake before 3am and quite happily so. My shower was long and scalding, and brushing my teeth took almost as long because of my paranoia (I used to having horrible teeth before braces. Even though I'm free of them now, I'm still cautious). Usually I would be scrolling through the internet, packing my bags for school or reading something until 6am came around and I could go for a run with Marcus, but I decided to leisurely stroll around my new home instead.

Marcus and I were the sole siblings to our parents Isabella and Damian Murdoc, my brother being two years older than myself. We were fiercely close, and I thought of him as a twin more than anything else, though we clearly weren't. My mother and Marcus were both albinos, which I was envious of even if I did enjoy looking like my father. Mum was short and had long white hair that used to remind me of a spider's web when I was a child. Like Marcus, she had blue eyes that were slightly lilac because of her prominent blood vessels from their condition, and was a geneticist.

Marcus was loud and full of life like Mum, however his hair was shaven close to the skull like a boxer with a few curls of silver growing on top. We possessed similar features; voluptuous lips, pale skin and the same brow shapes. But Dad and I were always recognised easily as father and daughter. Because of him, Marcus and I were _tall;_ I was 5'9, while he was closing in on 6'6 like the giant he was, but Dad still had an inch on him. Dad had dark brown eyes and sharp features that made him look like an angry wolf, and for all that Mum was bubbly and carefree, he was stoic and honesty quite menacing. I attributed my observational skills and enjoyment of solidity from him. His hair was always combed simply to the side in thick curls of brown.

As I finished unpacking my clothes into my wardrobe, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror on the inside of the door. While I had my mother's eternal baby face, Marcus had Dad's face, but when he wore his manic smile it always reminded me of The Joker. My hair was the same as my Dad's, thick and curly like a mane that fell to my hips. Mum used to call me Simba when I was a kid after my brother and I became obsessed with The Lion King. When I was younger it used to constantly be pulled, and I used to always get in trouble for punching whoever did so.I was curvy and had only recently decided that I preferred my hourglass shape to anything else, even if I was more muscular than most boys my age. My family had always been obsessed with being fit and strong; Marcus and I had been in dance classes and martial arts classes since we were young. I had pursued the latter while Marcus was currently enrolled in a performing arts conservatoire in London. He would be starting his first year in October, and so was staying with the family in Scotland while we settled in.

It may seem strange that us Murdocs have moved all the way to Greenock when Marcus is about to start performing arts school in London, especially since we're a close family (as different as half the family is to the other in both looks and personality). However Mum had taken a job as a professor at Edinburgh University, and so our parents decided that now Marcus was independent it would be a good time to take the pay rise. Currently, she was renting a small flat in the city to be close to work and would come home on the weekends. I thought it was silly that we were closer to Glasgow than Edinburgh, but the house we now lived in was my grandfather's (the father of my father) home, and Dad never could bring himself to sell it.

Birds were waking now. I had circled the maze of boxes in the otherwise empty rooms on the top floor, and now slid down the thick wooden staircase. Everything about this house was old and antique, which I adored. There was a heavy scent of wood and brick, as well as the dust we still needed to get rid of. The walls had been peeling of the rotting wallpaper and needed to be painted over. Upstairs, the floor was creepy and wooden while on the ground floor my bare feet slapped against stone slabs. The bathrooms and the kitchen were the only modernised areas if you ignored any electronics. Everywhere else was furnished with mahogany displays, dinning tables and the like, all covered with grey sheets.

My favourite room so far was the library. Fuck, it was _glorious._ I had never seen so many books in one room before, and I couldn't understand how Dad could have ever left them behind. If it wasn't for his dream of the arts, I don't think would have ever left to go to the West End (and in the process meet Mum). In his youth, Dad was a stage actor, and had even worked for the Royal Shakespeare Company. Now he wrote plays, and I was proud to say that some of his work was well known and critically acclaimed.

By 9am, the rest of the family was moving about. Marcus was running like somebody half his age in the overgrown land on our property. Mum was shouting at him to stay on the path, only half serious. Dad was lazily finishing off his toast while I read the other side of his morning paper as he held it up to read.

"If you've got nothing to do Valentina, get ready to leave." Dad said in his rumbling voice that reminded me of Ian Mckellan. His Scottish accent was nonexistent unless he was angry; like the rest of the family, he spoke like a southerner after so many years.

I was reluctant to move from my seat. "What for?"

"Your mother wants to visit the town, and drive past your school. Get dressed appropriately." I pouted, and he smirked back without taking his eyes from the paper. With a huff I pranced back up the stairs.

My room had not yet been turned into a personalised space, but I had high hopes for it. There was a door to the bathroom that I shared with Marcus. A curved window in the corner was close enough to the trees for the branches to scratch against it in the wind. There was a large bed with red curtains and sheets, a wardrobe made or the same dark type of tree, a vanity and an old fashioned writing desk with a leather study chair. The floor was bare, but I planned to layer a few old persian rugs we had found in the attic to keep my toes warm (I hated wearing shoes or socks unless necessary).

The majority of the floorspace was filled with unpacked boxes and a large black suitcase that was propped open against the window. Since I had not bothered going on a run with Marcus this morning, I didn't need to shower again, so I quickly pulled on a pair of distressed boyfriend jeans and a purple shirt left open over a black top. I hung a necklace with a pocket watch hanging from it and wrapped a knitted scarf around my neck tightly, throwing on my military style red winter coat as I went down the stairs. Half way down them, I groaned and went back up to retrieve my forgotten socks and converses.

Dad drove us into the town and walked to meet us on the main high street after parking the car. It was cold, and busy as expected for any Saturday. As the house was next to a small woodland, it had taken 30 minutes to drive here, and the difference was distinct. The pretty countryside bled into an urban town by the sea. Most of the buildings were from the 70s or were more modern. Marcus rose a condescending eyebrow at a group of stereotypical chavvy teens mulling around the town centre, but in all honesty, it seemed nice. Certainly not rundown, like I had been worried about. Mum found a cafe that we decided to revisit after walking around the area, and Dad occasionally pointed out places he remembered, and what had changed since he had grown up in Greenock.

I was being optimistic. Sure, it wasn't the richest place to live in, but it had a good few streets of shops, several parks, and was close to the sea. My family was well off, what with my parents both in well paying jobs and Dad coming from an old established family. I had been brought up with a good work ethic, and wasn't planning on rubbing my financial situation in anybody's faces. Besides, this was only for two years until I finished my A levels.

Marcus spotted a group of girls my age walking past. I nudged him playfully. "Eyes up, or you'll walk into a street lamp."

Marcus grinned without apology. "The girl in the middle had nice legs."

"Are you objectifying women again?" Mum said in a warning tone. "How would you feel if a boy looked at Valentina liked that?"

Immediately his face morphed into a scowl. "Valentina's not a girl, Mum. She's my _sister."_

"You didn't answer the question." I prompted, a bounce in my step.

"And you're not allowed to be in _breathing_ distance of a boy."

"I second that" Dad added with a smirk.

Lunch at the cafe was satisfying. I had a ham and cheese panini that I had to protect from Marcus even though he had his own, and was amused as usual at the open staring my brother and Mum got for their albino features. Most people may have become defensive, but the honest truth was that they were beautiful, and I liked being the smug little sister. More than one of my friends had harboured crushes on Marcus (his ego relied on his fans).

On the way home, Dad stopped in front of a public school with a red sign announcing it as 'Waterloo Road'.

"Here we are!" Mum cheered in a way that no other mother could without appearing to be having a midlife crisis.

Marcus nodded mockingly. "Look at how they colour coordinate the green doors with the red roof. Its like an all year Christmas celebration!"

"Marcus, don't be a bigot." Dad snapped. "This is a perfectly adequate school, and its location is the closest to home for your sister."

"It looks the same as any other." I agreed.

Marcus curled his lip a little. "I googled it. Waterloo Road takes in all the troubled kids you know."

"Oh honestly it's not like a juvenile centre." Mum said with mild irritation. She turned to me and kissed my temple. "Valentina is a good girl. I'm certain that she'll be fine."

"Yes, at least with your sister we don't have to make sure you haven't snuck out to some sort of rave every night." Dad snarked.

I sighed, but couldn't help smiling with fondness as they continued to bicker about the future of education. How bad could Waterloo Road be?


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Waterloo Road, only my OCs, artwork and this story.**

 **Chapter 2**

It was utterly unfair that Marcus got to lie about at home in his boxers while I had to endure an awkward day as the transfer kid. I tried explaining this to my parents, but Dad just snorted and Mum only patted my hair.

I was nervous as hell. It was bizarre to be how lax the dress code was. All that was required was standard school shoes, dark trousers or skirts, the school blazer and red and gold tie. I donned some dark tights to retain more heat and slipped on a pleated skirt that showed of the muscles of my legs with my black leather brogues. The blazer was handing for having my phone in the breast pocket, and I decided to pin my OBEY and Attack On Titan badges on the collar. I had a loose cardigan underneath and a properly tied windsor knot in my tie. I fiddled with my top button, deciding to leave it undone.

Wouldn't want to be too eager.

It was a mild miracle that my hair looked presentable today. Of course, it looked semi sentient (as usual), but was leaning towards a more Beyonce like style than Hagrid. I left it in a side parting and kept it to the side, making sure to wear several wristbands with my grey watch on my wrist for emergencies. My red knitted scarf was already wrapped several times around my throat. Knowing that my lips would suffer from being chewed by my teeth throughout the day, I put on some pink balm and decided to make the effort to add a little blush and vanilla perfume.

Naturally, my black satchel had been packed several hours before. This is the part where I announce my identity as an over achiever that wants to one day rule the world. I'm not sure whether I should do that by running for Prime Minister or gaining control of the Black Market, but I figured that good A levels would be cool. As of consequence, I was taking all three sciences, maths and further maths. Joy.

Dad surveyed me over the table with his hawk eyes. "Are you all packed?"

"Yep."

"You have your schedule?"

"Check."

"You have your lunch?"

"Yes Sir!" I saluted with a lopsided grin. He narrowed his eyes at me. "Don't blow anything up."

"I won't make any promises."

* * *

"Have fun!" Mum called as she drove away.

The pit in my stomach seemed to deepen. "At least one of us is optimistic." I muttered. Vaguely, I pondered on how relaxed I was only a few days ago, but I suppose Monday bring out the bitter despair in people.

I had practically memorised my schedule, but like a security blanket I checked again. Chemistry first.

* * *

The first thing I notice about my class is that it's small, maybe 10 students at most. I wasn't expecting a huge turn out, but I couldn't help but be wary when I turned out to be the only girl. Nobody spoke to me apart from the teacher who introduced me and the blonde sitting next to me, though I'd already forgotten their names. I had joined two weeks later than the start of term. At the very least, the questions we were given took up most of our double period (I hated awkward group projects).

Chemistry was followed by Biology on the authorised of school, which was annoying considering it was closer to the humanities classrooms rather than in the same corridor as the other science rooms. I spent a few minutes working out what staircase I was supposed to be up until I heard a couple of students taking about having biology next. I took a chance and followed them up to a newly renovated lab. I hesitated at the front, wondering whether there was a seating plan, social or instigated by a teacher.

I chose to sit on the end of a table next to a girl with dark hair. "Do you mind if I sit here?" I asked with a gesture to the seat.

She blinked in surprise. "Sure. Are you the transfer?"

I nodded, choosing not to reply as a portly, balding man came in to teach. The girl seemed to catch on, if slightly amused at how much of a teacher's pet I looked.

We were introduced to the specification for the course, then began recapping our knowledge of GCSE in groups. Naturally, I ended up with the dark haired girl and the two boys sitting on the other side of her. She smiled in a way that relieved me. "I'm Imogen, this is Connor and Kevin."

"Call me Vallie." I replied, sounding a little tense. "What you guys remember from photosynthesis?"

Connor was tall with had pouty lips, and leaned over Imogen's shoulder. "Not much. So what's London like?"

I shrugged. I guessed that we weren't actually going to work, which stressed me out a little. "Busy, fun. I lived in Greenwich actually, but spend a lot of time in the city."

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it here." Kevin encouraged. "I joined in the summer term last year, and I feel like I've been here for years."

Well, that sounded delightful. "I'm sure I'll like it here."

"So why did you move to here of all places?" Imogen asked.

"My Mum took a job in Edinburgh, so we moved into my Grandparents house here to save buying a new house." I said as quickly as possible, silently begging for the teacher to call for silence again. Thankfully, my prayers were answered.

Biology was only for one period. Next I had maths, but to my surprise Kevin announced the same. "I'll walk with you? Wouldn't want to get lost."

"Isn't that a guarantee on your first day?" We started to walk through the corridors, rushing to beat the traffic of younger students. It was a relief to finally get outside and walk to the other school building. Kevin asked more questions incessantly, but he was quite sweet so I couldn't find it in myself to be too annoyed. When we got to the classroom, we sat next to each other by the window. The teacher, Mr Chalk was nice enough, if a little slow with explaining things for my taste. By the time he had finished explaining the first topic, I had already made notes on my paper pad and was flipping through my text book to read the next. I ignored Kevin's wide eyes as studiously as I could.

Before I could rush out of the class, Kevin intervened (of course he did). "Hey! Do you want me to show you where the canteen is?"

"It's fine. I don't have anymore lessons today, so I'm be heading home now."

He frowned a little. "Aren't you going to get hungry?"

"Big breakfast. See you tomorrow!" I said, far more enthusiastically than anything else I had said before.

* * *

By the time I was standing by the school gates, I realised that it would be annoying to call my parents early to pick me up. I made a mental note to work out a way to travel home via public transport, and headed back to the main office to ask where I could study. A cheerful lady with brown hair and a floral top directed me to the school library, where I chose a small table behind the psychology bookshelf in the back. I wanted to finish my chemistry homework before the end of the day.

About half way through the last period of the day, I heard the approaching voices of some students that sounded familiar. They questioned the librarian about some English books, then made their way to a shelf where I could see them to collect some literature (most likely to study). I kept my head down and tuned into their conversation.

"-is bollocks, why can't we study something interesting?" Kevin was moaning.

"Hey, Of Mice And Men is a good book!" Imogen protested. She reached to grab another spine, but Connor beat her to it with a cheeky grin. "Are you sick of all the essays we had to do for it last year?"

She sniffed. "Essays in an English class? _Shocking."_

The three of them chuckled, quieting down. Then Imogen spoke up again. "What do you guys think of Vallie?"

"The girl in our Biology?" Connor shrugged. "Seems nice. Kinda posh, a bit of a boffin from the looks of it."

Kevin nodded, piling the books into his arms. "You should have seen how much she wrote in Chalky's class."

"Bit weird, really."

Imogen frowned in thought. "I guess, but I think she's just a little shy. Why don't we ask her to hang out at break tomorrow?"

"I've got maths first thing tomorrow, I can ask then?" Kevin offered.

"I'm cool with that." Connor added.

Imogen nodded, apparently satisfied. "Best we look after her before someone like Rhiannon takes a go at her."

* * *

I swirled the spoon through the beef stew I was having for dinner, pondering the conversation I had heard the other day. Usually we ate as a family, but since the dinning room hadn't been clean up yet, I was lounging on the floor of Marcus's room, a tray of food in my lap while I watched him play on his Xbox.

Part of me was grateful. I knew it was nice of Imogen, Connor and Kevin to decide to befriend me. The other side of me was fuming. I hated being pitied. And who were they to call me weird? I'm not saying that I'm not, but they made it out like a bad thing. I half considered asking Marcus for advice, but I knew what his answer would be. _"They're twats, Vallie. Throw their bags in a dumpster and find some friends that aren't gold diggers."_

It would be irrelevant to Marcus that they didn't even know that Vallie came from a wealthy family. Marcus tended to look for the worst in people, and wait for them to prove him wrong before actually liking them.

I swallowed some more soup down. At least I hadn't made any mortal enemies on my first day.


End file.
